UC-NRLF 


SB    E73    hEE 


WASHINGTON 

AND  OTHLR  5ONNLT5 


BY 
GEORGE  ALBERT  ALDRICH 

[RICH.  GALDJ 


eg 

C\J 

m 


GIFT  OF 


WASHINGTON 

AND  OTHER  SONNETS 


THE  THINKER" 


WASHINGTON 


AND  OTHER  SONNETS 


BY 


GEORGE  ALBERT  ALDRICH 

[RICH.  GALD] 


SAN  FRANCISCO 

A.  M.  ROBERTSON 

MDCCCCXVI 


COPYRIGHT  1916 

BY 
GEORGE  ALBERT  ALDRICH 


PHILOPOLIS  PRESS 
SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA 


DESIROUS,  EVER,  OF  BECOMING  PERTINENCE  WITH 
ALL  THINGS  OF  THE  MOMENT,  AND  FEARFUL  LEST 
A  BENIGHTED  SONNET-WORLD  SHOULD  LANGUISH, 
AND  FADE  INTO  THE  OBSCURITY  OF  A  POSSIBLE 
NEW-ERA  APATHY,  WE  ONCE  AGAIN  ESSAY  UPON  A 
GENEROUS  AND  CONSIDERATE  PUBLIC;  REQUESTING, 
HUMBLY,  WE  MAY  BE  AT  LEAST  READ. 


'The  "WASHINGTON"  sonnet  appeared  in  the  San 
Bernardino,  California  "Index",  on  the  twenty-second  of 
February,  nineteen-sixteen. 

T^^WAR"  sonnet  has  been  republished  from  a  for- 
mer edition,  circulated  in  nine  teen-fifteen. 

The  "CHARM  OF  SCENE"  sonnet  was  composed  at 
the  Berkeley  Campus-theatre,  Berkeley,  California,  while 
patiently  awaiting  the  beginning  of  a  certain  afternoon 
performance. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS 

Page 
WASHINGTON  ......         9 

WAR 10 

SONNET .         .         .         .          .         .         .         .11 

A  SUMMER  DAY  .         .         .         .         .  12 

RODIN'S  "THINKER" 13 

HOPE  EPHEMERAL       .....  14 

THIS  CHARM  OF  SCENE    .         .         .         .  15 

INTERPOLATE  THY  WILL  AS  LOVE        .         .  16 

AGONY   .         .         .         .         .         .         .  17 


WASHINGTON1/  : 

This  welcome  peneplain  of  sunshine  days: 
These  fields  Elysian  of  beauteous  peace : 
This  wonder-warmth,  a  wealth  without  surcease : 

This  innocence  of  woe  and  warlike  craze, 

Where 's  naught  of  cannon-roar  or  watch-fire  blaze 
This  life  poetic,  distant  far  from  Greece: 
This  pasture  green,  of  lambkin  and  of  fleece, 

Hath  need  of  Washington's  redeeming  ways. 

Then,  clang  ye  forth  ye  cymbals,  and  ye  drum ; 

And  twang  the  bow-string  or  melodious  lute, 
Then,  sound  the  trumpet-blast  (or  banjo  strum), 

The  soft  oboe,  or  e'en  the  woody  flute: 
But,  bear  in  mind  you  love  your  country  some; 

And  hate  all  ways  of  war-gods,  too  astute. 


[9] 


WAR. 

Oh  !  poetry  of  distance  now  appeal ! 

Enchantment  true ! 
******** 

We  want  not  thundrous  war  : 

We  would  not  dwell  'neath  doom's  mephitic  star : 
Nor  see  and  bleed ;  nor  groan  at  cruel  steel. 
To  stagger  at  the  blow ;  to  cringe,  to  reel, 

[Great  Jove's  relentless  mockery  of  God!] 

Preferring  bloody  dust-bathed  Earth,  ill-trod 
With  vengeance,  lust,  rapine  ;  the  voidal  meal ! 

We  yearn  for  prolegomena  ;  for  truth  : 

That  something  which,  if  worlds  were  justly  made, 
Would  govern  savage  man  in  days  of  youth ; 

And  consummate  all  plans  as  they  were  laid. 
Here,  strife's  incarnate,  vain,  reptilic  tooth 

Sunk  deep  of  human  flesh,  must  die  or  fade. 


[10] 


SONNET. 

To  while  away  a  Lincoln  Day  once  more ! 
Again  to  dwell  in  mem'ry  of  the  past : 
And  then  to  taste  its  nectar,  while  'twould  last, 

As  honey-bees  the  rose  e'en  to  its  core  ! 

To  dip  and  sip :  to  sip  and  dip  its  store 
Of  precious  product  dissipative  fast : 
[E'er  victim  of  the  frost  or  wintry  blast] 

And  waft  to  some  Elysian,  mystic  shore ! 

To  while  away  a  Lincoln  Day  again : 

To  mingle  with  the  ghosts  of  master-mind  ; 

And  patriotic  hearts  which  pulsed  in  pain, 

When  Christ's  bright  standard  fell  so  far  behind ; 

And  made  man's  real  purpose  here  too  plain, 
Too  evident,  ah  me,  too  sadly  blind ! 


A  SUMMER  DAY. 

Now  chant  we  gratitude  to  all  the  gods : 

In  rhythmic  measure,  too,  our  thanks  pour  forth : 
And  inward,  turn  to  love's  undoubted  worth ; 

Equating  ends,  with  product  of  Earth's  odds, 

To  study  smaller  thoughts — of  herbs  and  pods. 
A  newer  brighter  sun  is  now  gi'en  birth ; 
And  doubtless,  too,  the  blessings  crowning  Earth 

Divine  its  yields  from  mellow  soils  and  sods. 

Dissolving,  let  us  fuse  in  summery  heat ; 

And  deem  it  opportunity  well  sought. 
But,  being  sought,  the  acme  of  heart's  beat : 

The  something  seldom  gotten,  rarely  bought : 
Our  Deity's  sublimest  weather-treat : 

For  which  the  soul  hath,  eons,  yearned  and  fought. 


[12] 


RODIN'S  "THINKER". 

AN  APOSTROPHE. 

"This  hunched ;  this  crook'd  and  knotted  manly  self; 

All  gauched  in  corporeal  muscle-screw ; 

Thigh-elbowed  on  the  left,  in  *  mental-stew ', 
Would  think.     But  paucity  of  thought,  thou  elf, 
Secreted  'neath  this  gruesome,  sombred  pelf, 

Rejects  e'en  help  its  primal  gods  would  brew; 

And  calls  gray  melancholy,  chill,  its  due; 
Encuddling  poverty,  that  bitter  wolf! 

Yet,  still  it  hath  the  keenest  truth  at  heart: 

Bones  steeped  in  liquored  progress  of  the  world : 

And  brachycephalous,  fair  brow,  whose  part 

Unnumbered  thoughts,  to  light,  have  long  unfurled. 

It  knoweth  man's  still  man,  as  at  the  start: 

That  he  hath  loved  this  stature  knit  and  knurled." 


HOPE  EPHEMERAL. 

Now  hope,  ephemeral,  doth  us  possess; 

And  flowered  Nature  smiles,  once  more,  upon 

A  half-lost  bosom,  wretched,  quite  forlorn : 
And,  with  poetic  touch,  our  rust-pens  dress, 
To  lift  us  up  to  skies  of  painted  guess, 

Instructing  all  the  gods  we're  poet-born; 

And  dwell  in  harmony  of  song  in  rosy  morn, 
'Till  night  its  murky  curtain  hath  o'erpressed. 

Then,  let  us  live,  again,  in  golden  strain; 

And,  crying  forth  the  memories  ot  old, 
Recall  in  rhyme  our  fathers'  best  refrain; 

When  they  saw  poesy  in  burning-gold: 
And  found  a  Parthenon  in  each  bold  brain : 

Eternal  song  in  tales  of  wealth  untold. 


THIS  CHARM  OF  SCENE. 

This  charm  of  scene  should  justify,  oh  Muse, 

Another  essay  of  poetic  pen ; 

And  thou,  our  eidolon,  shall  signal  when 
To  realize  surcease  of  gross  abuse; 
Release  from  homeliness  of  life  obtuse 

And  substitute  thy  love  for  hate  of  men ; 

Injecting  sunshine  to  man's  prosaic  den; 
And  understanding  of  himself  abstruse. 

Then  sing  again  the  song  of  mellow  gold, 

And  laugh  once  more  with  all  the  happy  pasts, 

To  glorify  romantic  tales  of  old, 

And  save  our  souls,  while  method  ancient  lasts, 

Rejuvenating  memories  untold, 

To  shape  our  fate  devoid  of  War's  crude  blasts. 


P5] 


INTERPOLATE  THY  WILL  AS  LOVE. 

Interpolate  thy  will,  oh  Muse,  as  love ; 

And  let  us  find  in  peace  a  breathing  space ; 

That  we  may  win,  at  length,  the  noisy  race ; 
To  soar  in  immortality  above. 
Light-winged  on  righteousness,  as  does  the  dove 

Of  Christ's  best  choice.     Ambitious  life  apace, 

Ill-doomed  to  many  ever  of  the  chase, 
Hath  found  the  gods  impossible  to  prove ! 

Then  (having  love  as  guide),  once  more  our  song 
Of  gold,  refulgent  as  the  dawn  of  joy  ; 

And  cast  away  all  noisome  bent  to  wrong ; 
And  give  us  opulence  to  be  our  toy ; 

Our  heart's  desire  envied  of  the  throng  ; 
Our  ultima  tbule  without  alloy. 


[16] 


AGONY. 

Thrice-wrinkled  brow,  with  fevered  face  ; 

And  stoop  enow  to  curb  one's  pace  ; 

Thrice- crook'd  of  spine  ;  and  bleared  of  eye  ; 

Habitually  doomed  to  sigh  ; 

To  groan  and  moan  ;  a  soul  alone, 

A  pitiless  heart,  long  turned  to  stone. 

And  now  a  scream  ;  mayhap  a  dream, 

As  life  seems  floating  down  the  stream ; 

And  then  a  screech  !  God  may  but  reach 

The  anguish  it  is  meant  to  teach  ! 

Agony  ! 


YB   12458 


337737 


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